


My mirror

by RebAngel



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Castiel Has Nightmares, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Emotionally Hurt Castiel, First Kiss, First Time, Fluff, Fluff and Smut, Human Castiel, Human Castiel in the Bunker, M/M, Naked Cuddling, Opposites Attract, Prompt Fic, Protective Dean Winchester
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-09
Updated: 2017-08-09
Packaged: 2018-12-13 08:24:13
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,314
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11755875
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RebAngel/pseuds/RebAngel
Summary: This isn't the first time Dean finds the former angel in his room at night. Sometimes Cas  just stays for a while, sitting quietly on the floor. Sometimes they talk. Sometimes Dean even leads him to the kitchen and makes him a big steaming mug of hot chocolate.Sometimes it helps.





	My mirror

**Author's Note:**

  * For [DeanCasPie](https://archiveofourown.org/users/DeanCasPie/gifts).



> For Destiel & Cockles Monthly Sentence Challenge based on the July prompt: "Opposites Attract"
> 
> Thanks to @FindingFrancis for being so kind and willing to help!
> 
> For @DeanCasPie, because reasons :)
> 
> And of course, cookies for Alex!

 

* * *

Dean wakes up because of a presence in his room.

 Shame on him, though. He’s supposed to wake up before the intruder even has the chance to touch the door knob. Maybe he is getting older. Or maybe the false sense of safety the bunker gives him finally overcomes his paranoia. Or neither.

 It's far more complicated than that. He knows perfectly who the other person in the room is.

 "Hey, Cas." Dean stretches with a yawn. "Troubles sleeping again, huh?"

 Once he doesn't get an answer, Dean reaches blindly to find the bedside lamp and flips the switch on.

 Castiel's motionless form stirs. He is sitting on the floor, knees folded up to his chest and back leaning against the old wooden desk. First thing Dean notices is that the angel is barefoot.

 Cas likes walking around with his bare feet tapping on the concrete floor despite Sam's attempts to teach him otherwise.The former angel moves as quietly as a cat, usually making them jump at his sudden presence in the room.

 It's been three and a half weeks since they got him back. And not more than two months since he has been human. The media called the event a 'late August meteor shower' the night the angels fell. Dean called it the Winchester's friggin luck. Since Cas was one of them now.

 Nightmares apparently also run in the family.

 This isn't the first time Dean finds the former angel in his room at night. Sometimes Cas  just stays for a while, sitting quietly on the floor. Sometimes they talk. Sometimes Dean even leads him to the kitchen and makes him a big steaming mug of hot chocolate.

 Sometimes it helps.

 Not tonight, though.

 Dean sits on the bed and rubs his eyes. "You wanna talk about it?"

 Cas shakes his head, looking away.

 Dean, currently stripped to nothing but his underwear, shivers lightly at the cool air. He fists the sheets on his bed and clears his throat. "Look, I, uh... I know it sucks, buddy."

 It's not the brightest thing to say, but he has nothing else. Winchesters might be fighting other people's monsters for years, but they deal with their own demons behind closed doors. That's how it always has been.

 But Cas is their - _brother –_ Dean forces the thought upon himself once again. Though he understands that the fondness he feels towards the ex-angel is different than the one he has for Sammy, Dean is compelled to help Cas nonetheless. But for the past few weeks he has tried everything he knows to chase Cas’ nightmares away. Everything. _Oh._

 The idea presses against his mind and he ponders at it. It takes only a moment for him to decide.

 Dean slides back under the pile of blankets on his bed. “Come,” he says, trying to keep his voice flat, but the word comes out breathy and uncertain.

 It causes Castiel’s eyes to finally lift up and look at him.

 “It’s fine.” Dean nods in reassurance.

 All he gets in return is a slight head tilt and a questioning blue gaze.

 “When Sammy was a kid,“ Dean swallows around the limp in his throat and continues, “he was, uh... He had some really nasty dreams. He used to climb up into my bed in the middle of the night. I thought you could...“

 All of the sudden, Cas rises up to his feet. It’s one smooth, graceful movement. He stays still for a good two minutes, one knee bend slightly, giving Dean enough time to look at him.

 Castiel is wearing a worn gray T-shirt. Dean recognizes it as one of his own. It has a ripped right sleeve and a part of Zep’s _Ramble On_ lyrics on it. It’s a bit too big for the former angel. But the fact that Cas is wearing it gives Dean all kinds of inappropriate thoughts.

 Dean’s eyes go further down on their own accord. He swallows again, his mouth watering at the sight. Dark blue, well-fitting cotton boxer briefs. Dean’s jaw drops.

 All the other previous nights Cas was wearing loose grey pajama bottoms.Not as eye-catching as the briefs. Not even close.

 Then the former angel moves. It catches Dean by surprise, he feels like he spend hours staring at his friend instead of just a few minutes. _Or years, for that matter._

 Without saying a word Cas curls on the bed with his back turned to him. With a trembling hand, Dean throws the layers of blankets over the former angel’s body one by one and tugs them carefully, before laying down himself.

 "You good?” the hunter rasps, his voice sounds low-pitched and slightly hoarse, more than he remembers it to be.

 Castiel nods against the pillows, making a low humming sound. “It’s warm,” is the first thing he says for the night, his voice heavy with sleep.

 Dean reaches out to turn off the lamp, that now is on Cas’ side of the bed. His upper arm brushes against Cas’ bare shoulder through the ripped edge of his sleeve and Dean shivers at the touch of cold skin against his own.

 “Fuck...“ he lets out a yelp, “You’re freezing.”

 Before his brain has some time to catch up, his hand curls around Cas’ waist, tugging him closer. The former angel obeys. His back presses tightly against Dean’s chest, followed by the length of his body, down to his toes.

 Dean finds his nose nuzzled at the spot where Cas’ neck meets his shoulder and all he can do is helplessly breathe in the fallen angel.

 And, God help him, Cas smells good. Maybe it’s due to that ridiculous organic honey-flavored soap Sammy bought him a while ago. Or because of the fact that Cas is really methodical when it comes to keeping himself clean. He takes long, hot showers every night before going to bed, leaving the bathroom steamed up and smelling like a damn bee hive.

 Dean takes a deep breath, trying to ignore the way Castiel’s body fits so perfectly against his own. It’s the hardest thing he’s ever done. And he’s failing miserably at it. The ex-angel stirs, adjusting slightly the position of his hips; Dean bites back a low moan as all of the blood that is left in his brain suddenly travels south.

 “Cas...” he protests weakly.

 “Mhm?” Castiel purrs.

 Dean can feel the sound vibrating down his own bare chest. And this does nothing to help him concentrate.

 “You done moving around?” Dean growls, frustrated.

 “Yes. I am sorry,” Cas states apologetically.

 “Yeah, right.” Dean closes his eyes, inhaling the fallen angel’s scent once more. He smells like fresh air and rain and homemade honey-cinnamon cookies. Dean lets his mind play with that thought - like the sick, masochistic bastard he is - as Cas falls silent beside him.

 It's a mistake, thinking about it. What Cas would taste like? What would it be to feel those cotton boxer briefs under his fingertips? Or drag them down those gorgeous thighs…

 Dean is painfully aware of everything. It's nearly overwhelming for his senses. His fingers grip a handful of Castiel's T-shirt under the blankets and he bites his bottom lip, drawing blood as he tries not to make a sound.

 Castiel 's breathing is slow, calm, and even. Dean's is exactly the opposite. He's hard, pressed against the curve of his sleeping friend's ass, panting at his neck like some kind of a pervert.

 It takes all of his self-control not to rub against him.

 But then Cas moves again. He shifts on his back, his head halfway tugged under Dean’s chin. His knee pushes between Dean’s legs, sending sparks up his blurred mind as Cas’ thigh applies delicious pressure just on the right place.

 “Cas...” Dean makes a desperate, pleading noise.

 Castiel slowly blinks his eyes up to awareness. He stretches on the bed, drawing a low whine out of Dean’s bitten lips.

 "Mmm, what?” he mutters, “Is it time to get up?”

 "No, just... Fuck... “Dean tries to gather his thoughts. ”I’m hot. You are a damn furnace, okay…? Move.”

 " 'm sorry," the former angel says quietly, trying to untangle their legs, but he just makes it worse for Dean.

 Dean's hand digs up Castiel's inner thigh, keeping him in place. "Don't," he hisses.

 Castiel doesn't even breathe.

 Dean can feel the soft cotton under the pads of his fingers. He lets his hand linger for a long moment, his palm rubbing against the fabric.

 Cas lets out a breathy gasp. “Dean...”

 “Cas... Fuck.” Dean forces his hand to stay still. “Can I..“

 He mostly feels Castiel nodding his consent in the dark than seeing him, “Yes. Please.” But it’s all he needs. Dean pops on an elbow and reaches out to turn the light back on. If he’s really gonna do this, then he damn right will do it with the lights on and will remember every detail, ‘cause this is probably a one time deal.

 Cas is staring up to him, pupils fully dilated. He’s panting slightly, open-mouthed. His hair is even more ruffled than usual.

 “Hey,” Dean says fondly, staring back at him.

 “Hello,” Cas purrs happily.

 “I’m gonna kiss you now. Is that okay?”

 Cas' tongue darts out to wet his lips and he nods.

 Dean follows the movement with hungry eyes, before leaning in and catching the fallen angel's mouth with his own. It is a careful kiss, slow at first. It tastes like toothpaste and something else, something warm and sweet that makes Dean's head spin. It's just Cas, he realizes. This is what Cas tastes like.

 Castiel's palms lay flat against his chest as Dean breaks the kiss to catch his breath. The ex-angel chases his lips with a low, protesting sound. Dean grins as he leans in to kiss him again, scraping Cas' bottom lip with his teeth. The other man whines underneath him and his lips part, inviting Dean in.

 It all explodes with hundreds of colors behind Dean's closed eyes. Castiel lets him lead, lets him dominate the kiss, their bodies are pushing against one another and he allows Dean to determine the pace.

 The way Castiel surrenders to him is more intoxicating than any alcohol ever was.

 One of Cas’ hands curls on the back of his neck, the other one rests on Dean’s lower back.

 Dean is already halfway on top of him, caught in the moment, lost in the warm wetness of Castiel’s mouth. If Cas was some of the other random guys the hunter hooks up with whenever he gets bored, Dean probably would be fucking him by now.

 But this is Cas.

 Dean knows that the way Castiel submits to him is deceptive. Though human, he is still a soldier and he’s better with the blade and hand-on-hand combat than any human could ever be. He could easily overpower Dean if he wants to. But the fact that he does not makes Dean feel drunk.

 Dean’s hands find their way under Cas’ T-shirt, mapping warm skin on their path across the former angel’s chest. Cas moans and Dean catches the sound, savoring it. “Mmm, those little noises you make...” Dean whispers huskily and lays a kiss behind Cas’ ear. “I could do this all night.”

 “I won’t argue,” the ex-angel huffs a low, nervous laugh.

 “You can stop me anytime you want, Cas.” Dean kisses along his jawline, nipping the skin lightly with his teeth. “Whenever I do something you don’t like, you tell me, okay?

 Dean pushes the blankets down. Their bodies are already overheated and the room is filled with the sweet smell of sex.

 "Yes," Castiel says simply. It is a confirmation, but it’s also a permission.

 Dean's hand travels down Cas' stomach, feeling the muscles jump under the skin and then further down, over soft, cotton fabric and the warm hardness of Cas' body. The hunter finds his friend's mouth again. Castiel’s back arches on the bed as Dean pushes the waistband down and takes him in his hand.

 Cas feels amazing under his fingers. He's full and thick, velvety-smooth and heavy in Dean's hand. Dean can't help it but rock against Cas' hip, matching the slow, steady rhythm of his strokes. He twists his fist down Cas' length and then drags it lazily up, coaxing from the former angel all kinds of beautiful sounds.

 It doesn’t take much until Castiel is writhing on the bed, fingers gripping the sheets and head thrown back on the pillows as he moans Dean’s name. Dean can feel him tense, so he’s picking up the pace, urging him towards the edge.

 Cas comes with a low growl vibrating down his throat. Dean’s release follows shortly. He bites down on Cas’ shoulder to silence the broken sound it drags out of him.

 They lay like this for a while, with Cas' eyes shut tightly and Dean's face hidden on the crook of his friend's neck.

 Dean is the first to find his voice. “You good?” he asks.

 “I think ‘good’ is an understatement,” comes the breathless answer.

 “I’ll take that as a yes,” Dean laughs.

 “It is a ‘yes’.” Cas tiredly brushes the back of Dean’s neck, “Though I still don’t know why you did it.”

 “Because...” Dean tilts his head up to look at him. “Because I almost like myself when you are around. You know, like I’m looking in a mirror.”

 “You do know that the image that you see in a mirror is the opposite of what you are, right?” Cas says thoughtfully.

 “So,” Dean laughs again, giving him a quick kiss. “You are my opposite, huh? No wonder I can’t keep my hands off you then.”

 “That’s not a reason.” Cas says, but smiles nonetheless.

 “Well,” Dean lays his head back on Cas’ shoulder, “I thought it will help you sleep better.”

 

END


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